Poor William!" But when Tom saw the pistol and read the name on it, he said,-- "Things are coming to a crisis, Doctor; the net seems closing round my unfortunate partner.

God grant the storm may come and clear the air! Anything is better than these continual alarms." "It will be very terrible when it does come, my dear friend," said the Doctor.
"It cannot be much more terrible than this," said Tom, "when our servants are assassinated in their beds, and travellers in lonely huts have to wrestle for their lives.

Doctor, did you ever nourish a passion for revenge ?" "Yes, once," said the Doctor, "and had it gratified in fair and open duel; but when I saw him lying white on the grass before me, and thought that he was dead, I was like one demented, and prayed that my life might be taken instead of his.

Be sure, Tom, that revenge is of the devil, and, like everything else you get from him, is not worth having." "I do not in the least doubt it, Doctor," said Tom; "but oh, if I could only have five minutes with him on the turf yonder, with no one to interfere between us! I want no weapons; let us meet in our shirts and trowsers, like Devon lads." "And what would you do to him ?" "If you weren't there to see, HE'D never tell you." "Why nourish this feeling, Tom, my old friend; you do not know what pain it gives me to see a noble open character like yours distorted like this.

Leave him to Desborough,--why should you feel so deadly towards the man?
He has injured others more than you." "He stands between me and the hopes of a happy old age.